Under New Management
by angel-of-the-shadow
Summary: Based on Jreg's Centricide series. Commie becomes Ancap's business manager, but he has ulterior motives.


This takes place after Centricide 4, but Ancap never left. Dedicated to u/mangoesaresuperior on Reddit, who suggested it. Enjoy!

* * *

"You're fired!" Ancap snapped into his cell phone. "And if you value your life, you had better hope I never find you!"

He jabbed the End Call button and let his head drop forward onto the granite countertop. Why was it so difficult to find uncorrupted business managers these days?

"What's wrong, kulak?"

Ancap started at the familiar voice from the edge of the kitchen. Commie was such a large, hulking man, and usually not very graceful. How had his footsteps been so silent?

The two of them had been avoiding each other since Commie had told him off for his alleged lack of ethics. The man was wrong, of course; he cared about people! He had always wanted to provide them with the chance to work their way up in the world. The fact that it didn't always work out was no fault of his. Still, he couldn't deny that Commie's words had gotten to him. He didn't want people to suffer, he didn't want to be the villain Commie seemed to think he was. He had toyed with the idea of leaving — he didn't want to stay where he clearly wasn't welcome — but he cared too much about the Centricide cause to let the communist bully him out.

Ancap spun his barstool around slowly, his expression and tone both derisive as he addressed Commie. "My business manager was stealing from me," he said, "and now I have to send my people to…take care of him." He raised his eyebrows in a challenge. "Problem?"

Commie stepped further into the kitchen, crossing his arms and leaning against the refrigerator door. "With killing your business manager, the capitalist parasite?" he asked. "You have my seal of approval."

"I'm _honored_," Ancap mocked, turning back around. His fingers brushed against the chip in the countertop from the time Nazi had decided the best way to kill a spider was with a bullet. God, he needed these people out of his house.

Commie still hadn't moved. "What is it you want?" asked Ancap warily.

"I noticed you've seemed a bit down since we last spoke," he started. Ancap flushed slightly, glad that he was turned away. It was one thing for the communist to insult him, but he'd be damned if let Commie know he cared what he thought.

"I am not," Ancap retorted. "Business is booming."

"Is that why you pulled your funding from that factory in the Philippines?"

Ancap narrowed his eyes. How had Commie found out about that? "That place was doing down the drain," he dismissed, wondering if he needed to change the password on his computer. Perhaps five consecutive dollar signs wasn't the most secure. "Purely economic reasons."

"Sure it was. Listen." Commie stalked over to the other side of the table, so he was facing Ancap once again. "I could help you, if you want, to make some more ethical investments with your money. I could be your new business manager."

At that, Ancap couldn't help but laugh. "You? You're not qualified to be a business manager. Besides, you hate money."

Commie bristled. "Just because I hate money doesn't mean I can't use it. I know plenty about how capitalism works," he snapped. "And I've managed entire economies. I think I can handle your funds."

Ancap considered the words. It was true enough, Commie spent so much time reading those ridiculous books of his he probably understood capitalism better than anyone (though Ancap would never admit it out loud). "And why should I care whether my investments are" — he raised his hands to make air quotes — "'_ethical?'_"

Commie shrugged. "Maybe you don't. Maybe I was right about you." Commie raised his head and looked Ancap in the eye, and even though he knew the other man could see nothing but his own reflection in the lenses of his sunglasses, it felt as though Commie was looking right through him "Or, maybe you do have a soul somewhere behind those glasses."

Ancap broke the stare first, picking up his phone, even though there was nothing of interest on it. Something about Commie staring at him like that was…unsettling. That was the word for the nervous feeling in his stomach. "Fine," he said, his voice shaking ever so slightly. "But just for the good publicity. Ethical is in these days."

* * *

"You will call me when you receive the latest shipment?" Commie asked. The man on the other end of the line confirmed. "Wonderful. Glad to work with you."

As Commie hung up the phone, a knock sounded at his door. The knock was largely pointless, since the door was always open. Still, he was grateful for the gesture. He knew who it was, of course. There were only two other people in the house, and Nazi wouldn't bother to knock. "Come in," he called.

Ancap took a couple of steps into the room. "I wanted to check on how business was going."

Commie smile wickedly to himself. It had been a week since Ancap had put him in charge of his funds, and Commie hadn't wasted any time. He was surprised Ancap had gone this long without checking up on him.

Since his fight with Ancap a couple of weeks ago, he'd felt…guilty. Commie was sure Ancap had known what he thought of him, and yet he had seemed genuinely upset at Commie's words. The two of them always bickered, always fought, and Commie always enjoyed it. He was sure Ancap did, too.

But he hated seeing Ancap like that. The sulking, avoiding them at meals, taking his phone calls in private instead of seeking out whoever was in the house and loudly discussing his expert business sense and all the money he'd just made. His behaviors usually infuriated Commie, but without them, the house seemed strangely…empty.

So when Ancap had mentioned his now-ex business manager, Commie had seen a perfect opportunity. To make Ancap forget about their fight, get them back to their old dynamic, and siphon off a little of Ancap's fortune while he was at it.

Commie turned in his chair, softening his smile into something more innocent, the smile he usually reserved for counter-revolutionaries right before he tossed them in the gulag. "Everything's going wonderfully," he said cheerfully. "In fact, I was just on the phone with one of your newest investments, the RNP."

"Really?" Ancap raised his eyebrows. He looked interested, but his expression was so hard to read behind those sunglasses. "What are they, a new company?"

"Not a company, exactly," Commie said. "More of a…militia of communist revolutionaries."

"What?" Ancap asked, and Commie could hear the edge of anger in his voice, even if he couldn't read it in his eyes.

Commie pretended not to notice. "And, really, I wouldn't call it an investment. I mean, you're not going to _make_ any money."

"What?!" Ancap stalked over to the desk where Commie's computer sat, open to Ancap's finance pages. Commie slid his chair backward. He couldn't help his smile widening. He loved seeing Ancap angry, the way his cheeks would flush ever so slightly purple. He hadn't seen him this passionate about something for a while.

Commie watched as Ancap quickly scanned the form. "You sent them weapons from my factory in India?"

Commie shrugged. "They needed them."

"And you divested completely from my mine in Kazakhstan?" Ancap turned around and pointed an accusing finger at Commie. "They just struck oil near there. The stock skyrocketed. You could have lost me millions!"

"Well, I had to get the money from somewhere."

Ancap paced across the room. "I'll fire them. The whole factory, I'll fire them all."

"I'm afraid you can't do that," Commie said.

"And why not?"

He crossed his arms smugly. "They've unionized."

Ancap stopped pacing and stared at Commie. "You let them _unionize?_" he demanded. "You can't run a business like that! You'll drive it into the ground. The workers will be out of a job, the investors will lose all their money, the customers won't have anywhere to get their product. Do you understand what you've done?"

"Of course I do." Commie leaned back in his chair, enjoying seeing Ancap this riled up. It seemed like it was only ever him who could get Ancap to break that calm, conceited demeanor he always held. "The RNP has taken over their town and is instituting socialist reforms. All thanks to you." He smiled up at Ancap's furious expression. "How does it feel?"

Ancap's tone was icy. "You've stolen from me."

"Don't think of it as stealing. Think of it as redistributing your recourse to the people."

"That's stealing!" Ancap snapped, then muttered to himself, "I knew I couldn't trust a tankie."

Commie's eye twitched, his smile fading slightly. He had never cared when Ancom had called him that, but somehow hearing it from Ancap got under his skin. "Don't call me that."

"What, tankie?" Ancap smirked. He walked over to where Tankie was seated, until he was practically standing over him. "And why not? I could do a lot worse. You've stolen my property. I have every right to retaliate."

Commie stood from his chair. He was used to towering over people, but Ancap was tall, just a little shorter than him. Their faces were just inches apart as they stared each other down. "I would like to see you try."

Once again, Ancap broke the stare first, and Commie couldn't help but feel a twinge of…disappointment? No, that couldn't be it. Triumph. That's what the burst of adrenaline in his gut had to be.

"Fine, Commie," Ancap said as he turned toward the door, his voice sounding strained. "If that's how you want it." He marched from the room, the door rattling in its frame as he slammed it shut.

Left alone again, Commie sank back down into his chair. Was Ancap actually angry at him? That hadn't been his intention. He had just wanted their relationship to go back to the way it had been; the banter, the fun, not real fighting. Slowly, Commie closed his laptop screen, the evidence of the injury Ancap perceived against him disappearing. And even though he had helped his comrades across the world, even though he had finally gotten Ancap to talk to him again, he couldn't help but feel like he should count this as a loss.


End file.
